


Tender Care

by asronan



Series: Because This is Our Marriage [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arranged Marriage, Declarations Of Love, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Marriage of Convenience, Morning Sex, Passionate Sex, Shameless use of 'my love' because I'm a corny bitch, Tender Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:33:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24162142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asronan/pseuds/asronan
Summary: Jaime had a bad night. Brienne took care of him.Brienne had a bad day at work. Jaime took care of her.This is a one-shot based on a fic I wrote. You don't need to read the full fic but recommended if you want to :)
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Because This is Our Marriage [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1743715
Comments: 20
Kudos: 85





	Tender Care

**Author's Note:**

> This is a One-Shot in the same universe of my fic: Because This Is My First 
> 
> This one takes place between chapters 10 and 11.  
> And it's just softness with smut :D

****

**_Brienn_ _e_** knew Jaime had a bad night when two men stood in front of the door when she opened it. One was drunk and the other was Sandor, Jaime’s driver.

One arm slung around Sandor’s shoulders, Jaime’s feet barely reached the ground, his head lolled back and he was practically snoring until she called his name. “Jaime?”

He slurred; “Brinny!” and jumped to her from Sandor’s grip. He wrapped his arms around her neck and mumbled on the skin near her jaw. “...Vanilla,” She was sure he was already dozed off again when she balanced herself from his sudden intrusion. 

“Sandor,” She greeted his driver who still stood in front of the door and obviously pissed at whatever the man in her arms did. “Do you want to come in? I had chicken pie for dinner. Do you want some? A glass of water, maybe?”

“He puked at the back seat,” Sandor grumbled. A way too for him to say no. 

“Oh.”

“I have to go clean the seat tomorrow,” He said, “On a _Saturday_.”

She tightened her grip on Jaime with one hand and patted his suit for his wallet with the other. 

“Um, how much…?”

“How much does he have?”

Brienne opened his wallet, there were a couple of hundred dragons in them. She looked up to Sandor from the wallet and took out two hundred for him. The huge man grunted and said goodbye by not saying anything and helped her close the door.

“Jaime,” She tried to shake him up. Brienne was glad that she was an inch taller than him and able to hold him. 

Her husband nuzzled on her neck deeper as a response. He reeked of whiskey although his cologne did help cover most of the smell.

He usually took alcohol when he was terribly nervous, (their wedding night) or he was just agitated and needed to avoid people. In this case, it was the latter. Jaime didn’t drink much. Brienne was aware of his consciousness with alcohol since all his family members were heavy drinkers and rely on it to be decent.

Jaime had a 'business' dinner with Oberyn Martell. He said to her that the Martell’s business dinner was not a dinner. It was more to a hedonistic party full of booze and dessert. It wasn't the first time he had to go to this type of meeting. He told her on many occasions, he had to spend hours making sure Oberyn sign a contract before Oberyn gets fully drunk and _before_ he could get out from whatever club the second Martell booked to party. 

Brienne was invited but she was busy with work and had to pull an overtime for the next big exhibition for the History of Volantis next week.

Jaime was rather glad that they had a reason to tell Oberyn that. Especially after he showed his interest with her, even after Jaime’s direct dissatisfaction. (She met Martell when he visited the museum about a week ago and requested her to be his curator for the Dorne’s section. Jaime came quickly when she told him and Oberyn said that he knew Jaime so he claimed that Brienne was his friend too).

Brienne carried Jaime bridal style to the bathroom. He was slightly awake now but still pretty much drunk when she tried to strip his suit off to wash him that he laughed and tried to kiss her. “Not with that horrible breath, my sweet. Come,” She pulled him to the shower.

Luckily, Brienne was just coming back from work herself more than an hour ago so she showered with him. She made sure the warm water hit his back and neck, washed softly his hair and even brushed his teeth.

He smelled nice and was ready for bed after she blew-dried his hair (new technology currently produces 80% less sound, much to Jaime’s drunk self appreciated since he was already halfway into dreamland, too comfortable as her fingers gliding on his scalp). After, she put him in his pajamas and slowly led him to bed until Jaime grumbled as they walked. “No!” He protested when she laid him to bed.

“Yes!” She clicked her tongue and tried to cover him with a blanket. Even before her body fully landed on him on the bed to get the blanket on the other side, Jaime sat up and leaped from the bed.

“I hate clothes.” He peeled the freshly washed pajamas. “Jaime,” She stopped him but he insisted until he was stark naked and went back to bed to latch on to her, making her fall on the bed. His arms went around her waist and behind her neck and one leg over hers while his head laid on her chest. The position was outrageously uncomfortable on her side.

Jaime was warm though, and she really didn’t want to go. Yet he had a bad night and she wanted to make sure he was well taken care of in the morning when he sobered up. Minutes later, she managed to free herself from him and went to the kitchen to get Aspirin and a cup of water to place on the side table for him when he woke up later.

She then picked up a book she was currently reading from her messenger bag in the dining chair and hopped into bed to read the last five chapters.

Like always, even when he was drunk, Jaime’s consciousness was still trying to find her on the mattress. When he finally did, she let him laid his head on her thighs, making her as the pillow; one hand holding the paperback and the other playing with his hair.

**\---------------**

_**The**_ next morning, she woke up to a fully sober and full of testosterone Jaime.

He napped on her neck, teeth grazing her skin. “Good morning.”

Brienne brought up her hand and touched the side of his face. “Morning,” She greeted back. Jaime kissed her palm. “How long have you been awake?” His beard was meticulously trimmed and he smelled like his aftershave. The light in the room and the humidity made her think it was near noon. 

“Long enough for me to cook breakfast.” He positioned himself to be between her legs and kissed her lips. It was evident he wanted her right at this moment. It didn’t take long for him to take off her pants. Luckily for him, she never wore undergarments when she sleeps. He let her white t-shirt that was probably see-through hugging her torso.

“You cooked naked? What if you get hurt?” It was an appealing image, but probably not the safest. She hoped he didn’t.

He moved his hand to be between her legs, tracing a fingertip around Brienne’s outer folds, and he sunk in. “I _did_ use an apron,” He added another. “Care so much about my cock huh, love?” Shamelessly, Brienne rocked against his fingers seeking relief. He curled them in a way that had Brienne gripping the sheets.

“You were heavily drunk yesterday.” She managed to say.

“Bad night. Thanks for the Aspirin.” His kissed her jaw as his finger made movement he knew would make her mewled. “Fuck, you’re _sopping_.”

She was whimpering but she didn't relent yet. “Bad, how?” Her hand went down to grab his hard cock, pummelled him slowly that he grunted, fasten his fingering in her.

At that point, they both were torturing each other with their obvious wants but stubborn enough to tease each other first. Even with her blunt nail ran on the slit of his cock that he moaned like a dying man, he managed to answer her question;

“So many people. Intoxicated and horny that I... the only way I could get away from them was to sit by the bar with the bartender- _Fuck_!” She squeezed him. Jaime grabbed her hand, and pinned her with his weight. She was this close to come too. 

“Some people would come and touch my chest or shoulders, asking me to dance or sit with them. I had to act like I was busy drinking and talked to the bartender so they would leave me alone. Drank more than I can manage. I hate when people touch me.”

Jaime hated when people touched him, especially when the people he didn’t give consent to. She knew that about him. The last time other people touched him (Cersei) he blacked out and went to sleep for two days straight. And _she_ was his trigger, she wasn’t sure how he would react to strangers. Yet last night when he went home drunk, she knew it was his other version of sleeping two days straight. Brienne’s libido was slowly decreasing with his confession that she cupped his face. He knew the meaning and completely rejected the notion. “No, I’m fine and I want to fuck you right now. _I want you_.” He was sure by holding his cock near her entrance, gliding on her folds. When she was sure that what he wanted, all she could reply was a whisper “Yes,”.

“Only you can touch me.” 

He thrust in her. She gasped that he went down catching her lips. Kissing her once, twice, a third time, before he pulled his cock out and then thrust in again with enough force she threw her arms to hold him tightly by his waist and shoulder.

He was famished and she was begging to be consumed. His hand went up to grab her by her nape and devoured her mouth while his arm looped around her waist and slightly picked her up so he could pumped harder. Brienne's cries were high-pitched and desperate and she got her hand curled in his hair, gripping tightly as he pumped her hard that she moaned every moment his cock seethed deep into her.

She let him take what he wanted; wanted to give him whatever he needed, understood that she was the only one he ever craved. The only one whom he let to touch him, only one whom he trusted and the only one he showed himself fully. 

She came with a shaking breath, then his virile decreasing. Now he was slow; _gathered_ … but with a certain kind of vigor. 

“Jaime,” She whined, needing him fast again. “Please,” _Deep, hot, and starving._

“Shhh, my love.” His arms went around her shoulders, his forehead touched hers, nose nuzzled on her, eyes piercing on her. Both of her hands went up to clench on his hair then. Her legs tightened around his waist as he pulled out and then seethed fully inside her again. 

Skin on skin and savoring every inch of him inside her. The cacophonous sound from their mouths and bodies slapping slowly together with each thrust. Every thrust had a purpose; on how much he wanted her, how she made him so hard, how much he loved her. Again. Again. _Again_.

Feeling him thrust deep inside of her whilst he held her close and his warm breath tingled was the perfect moment for her to say that she loved him.

Like a magical word, he shattered inside her.

He kissed her as his warm seed burst inside her. Both groaning, grunting and shaking. “I love you too. I lov-“ He kissed her deep and recklessly. “Love you,” He grabbed her by her neck so their kisses didn’t break as he turned them to their sides; legs intertwined, his stump busily trying to get under her shirt, the only clothing left from his skin feeling hers fully. 

When she was fully naked he pulled her closer as he could, lips still devouring hers like mad, never tired of her taste. When he was soft inside her and both were panting hard and needed to breathe, they finally broke away.

Still staring at each other, Jaime’s hand went to brush her hair away from her face and his stump gliding on the slight slope of her waist. His eyes were warm, content, and full of love, looking at her. So different when she saw him for the first time months ago. She cupped his face and looked at him intensely and asked, “So, what’s for breakfast?”

He chuckled. 

**\---------------**

**_Jaime_** knew that Brienne had a bad day at work when she didn’t realize that he got back.

When he turned to the kitchen after hearing something clashing and then saw her standing by the island, mixing instant coffee in her cup, hair askew and clothes messy, he just _knew_ it.

After marrying him, Brienne rarely drank powdered coffee. She liked _his_ filtered ones.

He walked to her until he was behind her. Shocking but amused that she didn’t realize his presence yet, he looped his arms around her. She jumped and went rigid for a second until she realized it was his familiar warmth.

He kissed the back of her neck and moved to her lobe. “Bad day?”

He let her turn around to face him. Her blue eyes were so astonishing even though she was a little bit tired. 

“Want to talk about it?” He pulled her to him. Giving her tiny kisses on her face- forehead, nose, eyelids, her cupid’s bow- knowing that gesture calmed her and warmed her up to him.

“Some stupid visitors. Nearly a line of old armors fell because they were running around. The armors are priceless. We could get sued.”

“Shitbags. Should I get their names?”

“They’re just mean kids.”

“Blacklist them.”

“Can’t. One of them is Roose Bolton’s son.” He knew that man. Shady businessmen. Tywin’s favorite partner. Jaime disliked him enough that he loathed every time he needed to meet him.

All he could do now was to hug her.

He didn’t know how much he craved touching until he married her. And was shocked how open she was on _letting_ him, sometimes he asked so consistently too. His therapist, Addam was correct that he was touch starved. Yet, Brienne was too from what he observed;

He was usually the one who latched on her; hugs, hair brushings while she read her book before bed, and her arms around him when they slept, loved how close they were and how warm she was when he woke up. Even when Brienne didn’t verbally say she liked touching as much as him, he always knew by the way she reacted when his warmth surrounded her.

Like at this moment; she sighed, and quickly melted in his arms. Face pressed on the side of his face, liked the feeling of his beard, and how his cologne smelled. Her hands went under his arms and latched on his shoulders.

They hugged long enough until Jaime suggested dinner. “Want to watch a movie and get Thai?” They were swaying side to side in the kitchen, Jaime leading her, dancing to an imaginary song.

“Pacific Rim?”

“Whatever you want, my love.”

“That sounds good.” He didn’t see her face, but he knew she smiled by the feel of her lips touching his cheekbone, and how glad her voice sounded, letting him take care of her. 

**Author's Note:**

> I just recently finished The Secret History by Donna Tartt and let me tell you: my life is FUCKED


End file.
